


Why?

by D_elfie



Series: Prompted Works [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Love, M/M, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 15:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_elfie/pseuds/D_elfie
Summary: Alistair is leaving their Catholic school and Cullen wants to know why.





	Why?

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of a <500-word challenge around Cullen and Alistair and chantry/school uniforms. All thanks to a conversation between Auralana and I.

“What are you doing?” Cullen asked from the doorway. He knew his voice sounded angry. Hurt. He _was_ angry and hurt.

“Leaving,” Alistair said without turning around. Cullen watched as Alistair pulled the knot loose from his tie and chucked it on the bed.

“Why?” Cullen almost whined. Almost. He wouldn’t admit it, but he did. He stepped into the room and pulled the door closed behind him.

“Because I have to.” Alistair had moved on to the buttons of his uniform jacket.

Cullen’s mind drifted to times when it was his fingers sliding down the buttons, popping them open teasingly as he trailed kisses down Alistair’s neck. He clenched his hands at his sides to keep from grabbing and shaking Alistair.

“Why?” He repeated, quiet and pained. “You can’t leave me here alone. I won’t survive.”

“You’ll be fine, Len,” Alistair mumbled. “Just stick to your studies. The sisters like you.”

He still hadn’t looked at Cullen and that was the worst part. Maybe if he could get Alistair to look at him, he’d be able to make him stay.

The jacket slid from Alistair’s shoulders and was tossed on the bed with the tie. The uniform came off slowly. Alistair’s movements were wooden, and his fingers trembled. His gaze never left the floor.

As Alistair was working on the button on his wool pants, Cullen decided he’d had enough of waiting. He stepped in front of Alistair and grabbed his chin. He tilted Alistair’s face up, meeting no resistance, and forced him to look into Cullen’s eyes.

“I can’t do this without you.” Cullen leaned in to kiss Alistair.

While their lips met, Alistair did not return the kiss. His lips were cold and still. It was like kissing one of the statues of the saints in the chapel. Cullen released him and stepped back.

“Fine, Al. Leave. No one wanted you here anyhow.” Cullen sat on his bed on the other side of the room and slumped.

He stared at the floor as Alistair finished changing out of his uniform and into street clothes. He saw Alistair’s shadow as he moved to stand in front of Cullen. There was silence; only the sound of their breathing filled the room. It sounded laboured.

Then the shadow was gone. There was the creak of the floorboards and the squeal of the hinges on the door to their shared room.

“Goodbye, Cullen.” Alistair’s voice broke as he spoke. “I…”

The door closed softly, and Cullen was left alone.

He stared at the floor until his back ached from the hunched position. He sat up slowly and looked around the room. It was nearly dark, but not dark enough to hide what was on the bed – Alistair's uniform. Cold and empty.

He was gone.

Cullen curled up on his bed and began to cry.


End file.
